Scars
by TheSeer
Summary: I wish I could just say it was all over. But some wounds don't just magically go away. [PostKH2, spoilers, slash]


Some people think Sora has nightmares. Because he's that _type_, right? He's boyish and cute and his emotions are larger than life. It's easy to imagine him tossing and turning, sweating into his tangled sheets. Then, of course, someone comes (in Tidus' imagination, it's Kairi; in Selphie's it's me) and wakes him up, tells him it was just a dream, holds him until he stops shaking. It's a cute scene to imagine.

They can't have thought it through. Of course Sora doesn't have nightmares. What could possibly be in them, to shake _that_ heart?

"Riku! Riku, hang on!" I sat straight up in bed, panting and pale, my hair flying everywhere. My window flew open on its own, and Sora scrambled through, keyblade in hand, wet from the rain. He looked around the dark room, and didn't see anything but me. "Huh? What's wrong, Riku?"

"I was just asleep," I said dryly.

"I heard you screaming. . . " Sora saw my face, and let the subject drop. He noticed the keyblade in his hand, blushed, and vanished it. "So. . . you were asleep? It's not that late, is it?"

"It was supposed to be a nap," I said. "I guess I slept longer than I meant to."

But Sora's eyes flicked to my left hip. To the scars, the almost-parallel burns across my hip and lower back. "We could go easier on the training," he offered.

"No."

"I mean, I know how tired pain can make you, so. . ."

"Sora. I'm not going to be a cripple my whole life."

"You're not," he began, but then he looked down and scuffed his sneaker on the carpet. Maybe I wasn't exactly crippled. I could walk without limping now. But I didn't care about walking. Sora could never outrun me before, but he won every time, now, easily. He beat me at swimming. He beat me at tree climbing. He beat me at _sparring_, nine times out of ten, because my footwork and jumping were just gone.

If I was just going to hang out on the islands for the rest of my life, maybe it wouldn't matter. But that wasn't my life. That was _never_ supposed to be my life. Someday Mickey was going to need me again. Sora was going to need me again. And this time, I wasn't going to screw up.

There was a long silence, filled with the sound of rain. "Can I borrow a shirt?" Sora asked, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm pretty wet."

"Don't you have magical waterpoof fairy clothes?"

He folded his arms grumpily. "They're not fairy clothes."

"Fairies made them," I pointed out. "And they are clothes."

"They're in the wash. Mom doesn't believe they can't get dirty. Can I borrow a shirt?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." He stripped off his t-shirt.

Healing magic almost never leaves scars. Sora's been wounded hundreds of times. His skin ought to look like a road map, but it's almost as smooth as it was when we were kids. It takes a very powerful weapon to leave a scar that magic can't erase. Xemnas' swords did, of course. My hip proves that, not to mention the half-dozen smaller scars scattered across both of us. Sora says the one on his shoulder itches when it rains.

And, of course, there's the keyblades. Keyblade wounds heal fine, but they leave distinctive scars. They look a bit like little white chains on the skin. I have a chain across my belly, and two more on my left hand, front and back. Sora has one right over his heart. It always reminds me of how much he loves Kairi, which should be a happy thought but isn't.

Sora caught me looking at it. He looked sad for a minute, and then grinned. "Cheer up, Riku." He pulled one of my shirts over his head. It fit him like a tent. "Anyway. I'm just gonna do tonight's Cure, and then you can go back to sleep if you want, okay?"

"Fine." I laid back down, face down, and hitched up my shirt. Sora laid his big hands gently over the twin scars.

"Heal," he said quietly.

This was no hasty battlefield magic. It was slow and careful and deep. I felt it first, as his hands grew morning-cool, and the magic flowed into my back like the wind of spring. I saw a green glow out of the corners of my eyes, and smelled new leaves. Then the magic filled me completely, wrapped around me. I floated right up off the bed.

Sora went up on tiptoes, so he could still reach my back, and then his toes left the ground. The wind-light of the magic ruffled his hair and colored his skin green. He tilted his head back. "Heal," he whispered again. "Please. Heal."

Then it was over. I settled back down to the bed. Sora's heels thumped on the floor. Neither of us spoke for a while. Sora was exhausted, and I. . . Well, when a hurt is old enough, you don't even feel it any more. When it's gone, it almost feels like pain again - even when it's only partially gone. The healing had left some of the damage. Again.

"I keep thinking," Sora whispered, "that one of these times it's just going to _work_, and you'll finally be okay."

"It helps," I said into the pillow. "Really." But he'd done it two times a day, for. . . how long now? And I still couldn't run.

"Riku." Sora's whisper sounded odd. "It's still raining. Can I stay for a little while?"

"Sure, Sora," I said, not looking up. The healing always left me drowsy, and very relaxed. I didn't want to move.

There was a thud, and then another. After a moment, I recognized them as the sounds of Sora kicking his sneakers off. Then I felt a weight settle on the bed. Even then, I didn't understand (didn't believe) what was happening, not until Sora had cuddled up beside me and pulled the blanket over us both.

I froze. "Sora?"

"Just for a little while," he said, still in that odd whisper. "I just get lonely sometimes. I was lonely for so long."

"What about Kairi?" I wasn't bitter, except a few times staring at my ceiling at 3 AM. I loved Kairi, too, and I didn't want her hurt.

"We - I haven't done anything with her, either." I hadn't known that. It shouldn't have made me feel better, but it did. "I just want this," Sora whispered, "just for a few minutes."

This? But before I could ask, he turned my face around and kissed me. It was very soft, just the lightest brush of lips, but it went on a long time. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it. My hand ran over the shirt I'd lent him, over his flank, over his stomach. I felt something there, through the fabric - a scar like a chain, running up his stomach over his ribs. It hadn't been there five minutes ago. I tensed, and felt his right upper arm. There was another keyblade scar there. Way to the Dawn had made that scar. And not on Sora.

I shoved. Roxas sprawled on the floor. His hair was too light, his voice was too deep - no wonder his whisper had sounded strange! Why hadn't I listened? Why hadn't I _looked?_

"I'm sorry," Roxas said. "I just. . . I don't know how he stands it. It's so strong."

Sora was my best friend. Roxas was the most dangerous enemy I'd ever fought. Not evil, but passionate and fast as a snake and, like all Nobodies, half crazy. My first thought was to call in my keyblade, but if I was still too weak to beat Sora, then Roxas could carve me like a ham. "What's so strong?" I asked instead.

"His heart. _Our_ heart. And it's _both_ of you, and I don't know how he just smiles and walks away day after day. . . " It sounded like rambling, but I thought I understood. I'd seen how Sora looked at Kairi when she couldn't see. But both of us? "We're -" Roxas began, and then he was gone.

Sora blinked up at me from the floor, confused. "Oh, no," he said, "not again." He stood up. "What did he do?"

I was stunned that Sora even had to ask. Didn't he remember? "He said," I managed, "some things about your heart." I hesitated. How do you tell someone that they've kissed you? It's the sort of thing people are supposed to already know.

"My heart? I. . ." He stopped, and his eyes widened. He blushed. Then he looked away, and started putting his sneakers back on. "Look," he said, "y'know how sometimes, there's two things you could do, and if you pick one, someone you - I mean, people you care about will get hurt. But if you pick the other, someone else - uh, different people will get hurt. Right? So you can't pick either. You just sorta keep going, and hope things work out." He smiled at me, and walked to my window. "We can trade shirts back tomorrow, okay?" he said as he climbed out.

"Sure," I said. There wasn't anything else to say. "See you, Sora."

"Bye, Riku."


End file.
